"I want no guide on my own lands, Pechaud. Night and day are one to me when I ride across them. But this guide: who is he?"
"I myself, monsieur."
"You! And yet, perhaps, 'tis as well; but I fear me, old friend, that the sky will be red behind us with the flames of this good inn; they will not forego that revenge."
"Let it be so, monsieur. My ancestors have followed yours for two centuries, and taken the good with the bad—and I am as they are; you know this."
De Ganache looked at him, and as I heard this faithful retainer's words
I began to understand the force that my opponent had on his side.
After a moment's pause Pechaud continued:
"But, monsieur, a word from an old man. How long is this to last? Why are you not at the King's side, as your forefathers ever were? Make your peace with the Court, as Monsieur d'Andelot and the Admiral have done——"
"Enough, Pechaud! Perhaps I will take your advice, and that soon; but for the present I must pull my sword-belt in by a hole, and see that my saddlery at any rate is right. As for this Monsieur Broussel, he told mademoiselle that he knew me, but I have never set eyes on him that I know. What manner of man is he?"
"Monsieur, we have just heard him as he slept."
De Ganache shrugged his shoulders and glanced up at the clock.
"It is time," he said. "Warn mademoiselle."